MY MASTER'S BEDROOM (RATED 18+)

MMBR C1

“Dorothia doesn’t have a job yet?”

Even though I could clearly hear my batchmates whispering about me, I chose to pretend I didn’t hear anything, as if I had suddenly gone deaf.

“Wasn’t she the smartest one back in senior high school and college? I wonder what happened to her… she looks so miserable…”

They didn’t even bother to lower their voices. They talked about me so openly, as if I weren’t even there, as if I couldn’t hear a single word.

The only thing that pushed me to come to this reunion, I heard there would be free food. They said you could attend even if you didn’t contribute anything. I just sat right here, eyes locked on my plate, which I had piled high with all sorts of dishes. If I got the chance, I’d pack some leftovers to take home so I have something to eat tomorrow morning.

Loud music reverberated throughout the corners of this hotel dining hall. It must be around six in the evening. My wristwatch doesn’t work. I only wore it just to have something presentable on me. A lot of my former classmates and batchmates had shown up.

I might be the only one not socializing. I was too focused on filling my empty stomach.

As I sat quietly on my seat, chewing quickly, I could hear them each telling their own stories.

It was all about their accomplishments, their vacations, their romantic lives. I liked hearing those stories. I really did, but at the same time, I couldn’t help but feel bad for myself. Life is just so unfair. They were right...I used to be a bright student, loved by my teachers and professors.

I was never without friends. I finished college in just four years and passed my board exams. After years of hard work, studying, and taking board exams, a job was already waiting for me. I was supposed to be a teacher at a national high school here in the Philippines. But in one sudden moment, everything I had worked for, all my dreams... it all collapsed.

I lost my entire family in a horrifying tragedy. The car they were riding fell off a cliff. My mom, my dad, and my two younger brothers... all gone. I don’t think there’s anything more painful than being left behind by everyone you love. But my suffering didn’t end there. I later found out that my father had taken out loans from several lending companies and borrowed money from friends... debts I never knew about.

I had no choice but to pay for all of it.

As if losing my loved ones wasn’t enough, I also lost everything we owned. We weren’t rich, but we had a small street food cart business in the city. I even had to sell our house and the land just so the collectors would stop harassing me. I paid for all of them.

There was a little money left. That helped me to support my expenses for the rest of the year.

It’s now been a year without a decent job.

All the achievements I had, all the things I worked for, wasted. I can no longer teach.

Stress and anxiety devoured me.

That’s the reason.

I lost my confidence and everything else with it.

I’ve been staying with my Aunt from my mother's side. For a year now, I’ve been enduring life in their garage. Both sides of my family, my mom’s and dad’s are both evils. Maybe it’s because they were jealous of us back then when we were the only ones who managed to put up a small business. Now, I sleep in their garage. And when it comes to food, water, or anything else, they don’t even give me a single bit of help.

I do have work.

I take on whatever jobs I can find, anything that pays to survive but almost all of it goes to prescriptions from my doctor and medication for my anxiety. It’s not as severe compared to other patients. Some of them can’t even travel because their panic attacks are so intense. Compared to them, I guess I’m still okay, I can still travel alone.

There are reasons why people develop these things. In my case, I only get panic attacks when something triggers me. It feels like I can’t breathe, my body goes cold and numb. It usually happens when I’m extremely exhausted, and stress suddenly piles on stress I can’t manage. Sometimes it comes out of nowhere. But I’ve learned to calm myself down, so I don’t have to take my medication every time.

And that’s why I lost the spark for teaching, I lost trust in myself, and as I said, I lost all confidence.

I used to have a healthy mind. I could handle pressure, I could handle the stress from school. But fate really tested me.

If only I could find a job that pays well... I want to have a comfortable life. It's so hard to survive in a developing country that politicians don't care if you live or die.

I want to have a job that is not something where I have to face a crowd. I don’t want to use this brain anymore... I get dizzy just trying to think it’s not like before.

I remembered that I used to have so many friends... people admired me for being who I was. But now that I’ve been crushed by life’s hardships, I finally learned who was truly there for me.

Turns out, no one was.

They were all fake.

Just like those two women whispering on the other side of the table. They’re holding wine glasses, while I’m the subject of their gossip.

Back in college, I’ll never forget how they used to ask for help with things they couldn’t handle in our math major. They even used to copy me. And now, just because they’ve gone abroad and seen how miserable I am, they make sure I hear every insult they throw my way.

It hurts... but I’m used to being belittled by people.

Whether they’re family or not.

I’m still thankful I’m alive, even after all those times I nearly followed them to heaven. I keep doing the things I’m not supposed to with my illness, like staying up late. That’s number one on the list, and yet it’s the hardest one for me to avoid.

I don’t know if those gossipmongers have any idea what I’ve gone through or why I’m in this state, but whatever. It doesn’t matter anymore.

A lot more happened in the dining hall.

People were dancing, drinking, and singing—but I kept my focus on the food.

While glancing around, I quietly started transferring the contents of my plate into a plastic bag. No one was looking at me just yet. Everyone at my table was busy with their own thing. The dinner dishes got jumbled together inside the plastic bag. When it was full, I tucked it into my tote bag.

I’m broke right now because I gave my aunt money I had to pay for electricity and rent.

It’s funny to think that my candle gives off more light in the garage than our actual bulb. But to keep things peaceful, I handed over 500 pesos to her. That was supposed to be part of my allowance, but I haven’t paid my share in two months. They might kick me out.

I can’t afford a decent apartment. I’d rather live in a street than risk my health working myself to death just to afford a decent place. If only my grandparents were still alive, maybe I wouldn’t have these problems but they died even before my family.

I stood up from the seat, slung the tote bag over my left shoulder, and began walking away. While glancing in the crowd, I was the worst-dressed one here, wearing just almost worn-off clothes and even my underwear had holes. Well, they can't see that anyway.

I walked slowly across the floor, where the dancing lights flashed. I bumped into and passed by so many people.

They were all having a good time of their lives here, while I just wanted to get a free meal.

How pathetic, Dorothia.

“Dorothia… where are you going?”

Before I could reach the exit, a group of

women blocked my path. I didn’t recognize them right away because of the thick, flawless makeup plastered on their faces but their voices… if I’m not mistaken, they were my college classmates. The same ones who, no matter what they did, could never match my math skills back then.

We used to compete to see who could solve problems the fastest and they hated that I always came out on top.

There used to be more of them, but only four showed up tonight.

Their glittery dresses were almost painful to look at.

“The party isn’t over yet…” Jannah said.

“Yeah… but I have to go home… my cat must be hungry waiting for me," I responded.

“No, you can’t leave… it’s still early!” Violetta shouted, and the other two cheered to agree with her. That woman must be drunk, her eyes were already hazy.

“I’m sorry, but I have to go now… Just send my regards to everyone.”

I stepped aside, I managed to pass them and quickened my pace, but my eyes widened when someone suddenly grabbed my left arm.

“I didn’t say you could leave!” Violetta yelled, and she yanked me hard.

That was when my tote bag went flying and landed on the tiles. My fave went cold as I saw the plastic bag inside burst open.

All the food I had carefully stuffed in earlier spilled across the floor.

“What the hell... what is that?!” Violetta shrieked dramatically.

They all saw everything.

Some people actually stopped dancing because the mess that had spread on the floor had grabbed everyone's attention. Even though my neck had stiffened from the tension, I slowly lowered my head in shame and bit down hard on my lower lip to keep myself from crying or reacting.

I could still hear them giggling behind me.

“What are you waiting for? Clean the mess, Dorothia… and after that, you may leave,” Jannah said firmly, her voice cold and dismissive.

I inhaled deeply, trying to keep myself steady before I took a step toward where my tote bag had landed. I knelt down on the floor. Thankfully, not everything had spilled. I gathered what was left, shoved it back into the plastic bag, and stood up as quickly as I could. I no longer had the face or the dignity to keep cleaning up the mess, not with almost every guest already staring at me, judging me.

The murmurs around me returned, louder now, ringing in my ears.

My knees were trembling as I quickened my pace toward the exit, doing everything I could to keep it together. The doorman who was stationed nearby even opened the door for me, perhaps out of pity. As soon as I got out, I stood still and tried to take in several deep breaths.

I felt like I was on the verge of a panic attack.

My breathing had become shallow.

As I left the hotel building, sweat was pouring down my face and I was gasping for breath like I had just finished running a marathon. I was suffocating.

Once I was outside, I looked around and spotted a bench under a plumeria tree.

I leaned back against the hard bench. For a moment, I was hesitating whether to take my calming medication, but something in me held back. My instincts told me I could still handle this... that I could still endure. My heart was pounding so fast it felt like it might burst. I tried to control my breathing and then rubbed some oil liniment on my forehead and nostrils, hoping the menthol would help me feel grounded.

I felt around in my pocket and found one last menthol candy. I popped it into my mouth and let it melt slowly, just to awaken my senses and bring me back to the present.

It probably took several minutes before I started to feel a little more okay, calmer, at least. I didn’t want to spend money on transportation, so I just walked. It took me almost half an hour to get home, partly because my steps were so heavy and slow like my legs were weighed down by exhaustion and embarrassment.

When I arrived, the gate was still locked. I didn’t have the patience or energy to find someone to open it, so I carefully climbed over the wall and entered the yard. I was yawning as I walked toward the garage and I took a glance toward Auntie’s house.

It’s a three-story house with more than enough space but they still wouldn’t even let me stay in the kitchen. Their dogs had better treatment than I did, they had proper beds and a roof over their heads.

I pulled out my key to unlock the padlock in the garage and unhooked the chain. I stepped inside. The bulb was so dim now, that it barely lit the room. I made my way carefully toward my folding bed and stopped in front of the old wooden dresser. I lit a thick candle with a matchstick.

“Cloud isn’t home yet?” I asked softly, my eyes landed on the little bed I had set up for my cat, right beside mine. Even if the door was locked, he usually climbed over the cement wall to come in.

Maybe that rascal was out flirting with other cats. I even brought some food for him... well, technically for us. It was still edible since it hadn’t gotten dirty in the spill.

I still had work tomorrow, from morning to night, at a small eatery where I worked as a server. Just yesterday, I was washing dishes in a coffee shop. The day after tomorrow, I’d be back there again.

I was tired for the entire day, so I just laid down and fell asleep. When I woke up the next morning, Cloud still wasn’t back.

I woke up at five in the morning. I always woke up early so I could bathe at the public bathhouse while nobody was there.

That way, I didn’t have to pay. The place was only about a three-minute walk away.

It had already been a year since I last tasted real home-cooked food.

I usually bought random dishes from sidewalk vendors whatever I could afford. Sometimes it was just processed food. When I didn’t have any money, I would ask for leftovers from the restaurants where I worked.

In life, you really just need to know how to hustle to survive.

If you let shame or pride get in the way, you won’t make it through a situation like mine. You have to be practical. That’s the only way to keep yourself from starving.

After taking a bath and getting dressed, I returned to the garage but I couldn’t let go of the uneasiness growing inside me. I was getting seriously worried. My cat still hadn’t come home.

I left food for him, but it would spoil if he didn’t come back soon to eat it.

“Cloud?! Where are you?!”

Before I left for work, I needed to at least catch a glimpse of that rowdy little cat.

"Clooooud! My little rascal!” I called out again, my voice louder now. I searched around the house first, then looked through every corner of the yard, both the front and back.

“Where could he be—?”

“What the hell, Dorothia?! It’s too early for all that noise! People are still trying to sleep!”

I immediately close my mouth shut. I tilted my head up toward the window and saw my aunt glaring down at me. Her eyebrows were furrowed tightly together, and she looked like she had just gotten out of bed, hair messy, her face still puffed from sleep, and one hand roughly scratching the back of her head.

“I’m sorry… it’s just... I’m looking for my cat,” I explained in a soft voice, hoping to calm her down.

“Your cat?! You mean that white one?!” she practically shouted, her tone sharp and irritated.

“Yes… that’s Cloud.”

“That might be the cat I had buried yesterday! He came into the house and got mauled by my three dogs!”

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